Just to Feel
by Rhysbando
Summary: I was bored. Bored of my job, bored of my town, bored of my fiancee. However, after one tragic night and he came into my life, my boredom left me forever.
1. Prologue

I was about 25 when it all happened. God, was I stupid back then. Although, the only person around me who had any idea how dumb I was, was myself. For a while, no one suspected that stuck up Amy Grey might have been involved with the biggest homicide case the Northeast had ever had. I know what you're thinking, no, I didn't kill anyone. But I might as well have, because when I was discovered let me tell you I was in deep shit, both legal and relationship wise, considering the fact that I was working for the local police department at that time.

What did I do, you ask? I think the better question is what didn't I do? Now, I don't want to give away the story so soon, but let's just say that throughout this story, you'll probably question my judgment as much as I had.

Let me give you some background information on my life so you'll better understand my situation at the time. Like I said, I worked at my local police department. We were a small facility located in the small town of Dowton, New York. It was a quaint little suburb in the parts of New York that people forget existed. However, Dowton was most popular in the summertime when out-of-staters came to camp out in the woods that surrounded the town. I was one of the town's only detectives. Trust me it was less thrilling than it sounds. With small towns comes a small amount of crimes. The biggest crimes you'd hear about were shopliftings and meth lab busts. Sure these things kept my job secure, but nothing exciting ever happened in Dowton. Truth was. my job at that point was deadend and, frankly, I was bored of it. It became agonizingly monotonous to walk into work every day at the asscrack of dawn and sit behind a desk for hours on end and write reports all day. I never got to go out into the world and investigate and, you know, actually do the job I spent five years in college studying.

Every day I would count the seconds on my clock until four o'clock appeared and I could escape that hellhole. However, no matter how horrible work was, my home life was no better. I basically lived alone in a regular suburban home, in a regular neighborhood, with regular neighbors. I had a fiance, Brad was his name, the first character I'll introduce. Brad was your everyday, run-of-the-mill jock, whose was in way over his head. He was muscular, with a movie star smile. Short dusty blonde hair and dull hazel eyes graced Brad oh so lovely. We had met in college during one of his football games during halftime. He bought me a soft pretzel from the concession stand and I fell in love instantly. I loved how adventurous he was. During summers, I'd go with his, very wealthy, family on all kinds of exotic vacations. Australia, Hawaii, Paris, you name it I was there. I was so happy that I found someone who didn't bore me. Brad was exciting. He made my life exciting. On our trip to Paris, he finally proposed in front of the famous Lock Bridge. I, obviously, said yes. We kissed and added our lock to the bridge. I wonder if it's still there…

Anyways, flash forward three years and here I was, alone in a dingy suburban home, while he lived his dreams of being a professional football player. I was depressed, unmarried, and once again, bored. The thrill of my life was taken away when Brad told me he'd only be living with me "part time," whatever the hell that meant. I had minimal friends and my family was not a big help in the boredom department. Brad started coming home less and less as years went on. I was beginning to lose hope. I craved for how I felt during college. I felt free, hopeful, and alive. However, one fatal night changed everything for me. And no, from that night on, I was not bored anymore.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

I was surprised when I was awoken in the middle of the night by my cell phone ringing and vibrating on my bedside table. I rubbed my eyes and glanced at the screen, squinting my eyes from the brightness. Chief Grant? At two in the morning? Why the hell is he calling me this late at night. I was pissed, but he was my boss so I had to keep my cool.

"Hello?" I said groggily. I prayed whatever it was, it could be dealt with in the daylight.

"Amy, I need you to get your ass to the station right now," Grant quickly said to me in a stern voice. I covered the microphone on my phone and let out a sigh. I'd heard that same statement probably over a hundred times. Although, I usually heard it during the daytime and it was most of the time on my days off. I let out chuckle.

"Uh Chief?" I began. "I don't know if you've realized this, but it's 2am. You're about four hours too early." I silently hoped he'd get my twisted 2am humor.

"Amy, I'm not fucking around. An entire family was just found murdered on Dorset Drive." Excuse me? Murder? In Dowton? Okay, maybe Grant really wasn't fucking around.

"Are you serious?" I asked, more frantic now. "But how-."

"I don't have time to give you the play-by-play over the phone. Just get to the station in uniform so we can go the scene before sunrise. The locals really don't need to see this shit." He hung up after that.

With that, I sprung out of bed and began to quickly get dressed. As I rushed out of the house, I felt something I hadn't in a long time: excitement. Granted it wasn't the best circumstance to get excited over, but it was something. I got into my car and practically speeded to the station. At about 2:30, I rolled up to the police station. Standing outside the big glass doors, was Chief Paul Grant, waiting for me. Grant was in his 50s and the biggest hardass I'd known at that point. He rubbed his graying mustache after he'd put out his cigarette. I parked my car and got out. I walked onto the curb where Grant was and gave him a nod.

"What's the deal?" I asked him. He motioned me, not inside the building, but to his cop car. I skeptically got into the passenger seat. He took off at fast speed. "Am I not going to be briefed or anything?" I was getting concerned. This wasn't how we dealt with things like this. Although, I'd never been on a murder case before, let alone been woken up at ungodly hours for one so who knows if this was correct protocol or not. And from the look of Grant, he didn't give a shit. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel before finally speaking.

"Sure, here's your brief," he began, clearly not amused. He reached from his pocket and handed me his cell phone. I held it in my hand and gave him a look. "Open it, dumbass." I rolled my eyes at him and slid my finger on the touchpad to open it. I gasped at what I saw when the phone opened. There, was a collection of pictures sent from an unknown number that depicted a family brutally murdered. The set of four photos showed each member of the family murdered in a different way. It was difficult to identify who was who. The father seemed to be the first photo. His neck was clearly snapped at the angle of the rope that was around his neck. The rope was tied to a ceiling fan where his mangled corpse was hanging, his limbs seem to be barely holding on by stray tendons and ligaments. Second was mother. The mother's body was strategically set sitting at a dining table, her head hanging limply behind her, exposing her neck, which had a clean, yet bloody, slice through it. But on the dinner table, was a pile of the most disgusting pile of gore I'd ever seen. Various organs and intestines littered the table, too many to have come from one person. Thinking about that last part made my stomach churn at what would show up next. I reluctantly swiped to the next photo. I could see Grant watching my reactions out of the corner of my eye. The third photo depicted two, hollow, children lying on top of one another, necks also slit. It had been staged since the children seemed to be holding hands. I was utterly shocked. I quickly swiped to the last photo. It was a picture of a note, with the address on Dorset Drive scribbled in a quick, scratchy handwriting that made my skin crawl. I looked up at Grant.

"Is this some kind of joke, Chief?" was my immediate response. He scowled at me. He released his harsh grip on the wheel to snatch the phone out of my hands. He threw it over his shoulder and it landed somewhere in the backseat. At that moment, I knew that what I said shouldn't have been my first reaction. He didn't acknowledge my comment.

"I got that about an hour ago," he sighed. "I couldn't believe what I was looking at."

"I mean," I began. "Are we sure this isn't some kids punking us with some stupid Halloween decorations?" It was seriously hard for me to believe that something like this could take place in quaint, little Dowton. Grant rolled his eyes at me.

"Did that really look like decorations to you?" He solemnly asked. I shrugged my shoulders. The sharp turn of the car made my body hit against the door. Grant slowed the car down and pulled up to a house. The fact that no lights were on inside, despite it being the middle of the night, gave me chills. He looked at me. "This is it. Are you ready?" I sighed.

"As ready as I'll ever be." I responded. He nodded. We both exited the car with caution. We were about to make our way onto the curb when Grant put an arm in front of me.

"Take out your gun," he said without looking at me. I nodded quickly and pulled my pistol out of my large coat. I had to admit to myself, even though was a horrible, gruesome situation, I was having fun. I had never used my pistol for anything. I couldn't tell if my fear was turning into excitement or not. Grant took his own gun out and we both turned on the flashlights on the scope. "Let's go."

We walked the stoned path up to the front door. As we approached the front porch of the house, I noticed the front door slightly ajar.

"It's open," I said simply. Grant shushed me.

"Be ready for anything, kid." he whispered. He went ahead of me and climbed the stairs to the porch. The old, wooden steps creaked with every step he took. I slowly followed. We both took a deep breath and Grant gingerly pushed the door open. We were immediately greeted with the putrid scent of rotting flesh. I quickly put a hand around my nose and mouth. It was at this moment, I realized that this was real. All those grotesque pictures sent to Grant's phone were real. A family was actually murdered, in little Dowton. I was about to vomit from the stench alone. I began to gag loudly, each wave burning my throat. Grant swatted me in the arm, a sign for me to shut up. I harshly swallowed and took a deep breath. We began to walk through the dark house. We walked through the hallway agonizingly slow. Grant was in front of me as we stalked the house. I shone my light on the walls. Pictures littered the walls, all depicting a family doing various things. One showed the family at what looked like a recent trip to Disney World, another of them at Mount Rushmore. Others were various family photos, school photos of the kids, pictures of the parents' wedding, etc. My heart hurt. This poor family. They had no idea this was coming to them. Who would do this to them?

I was brought out of my thoughts by me bumping into Grant.

"What?" I whispered. I couldn't see over Grant's shoulders. He shushed me once again. He turned to the side to let me see what was infront of him. He leaned to my ear.

"Look, but don't make a fucking sound." His words sent chills down my spine. My eyes widened as I began to see what Grant had just seen. There, on the living room floor, were the two children from the photo. They were even more hollow and lifeless in person. I shown the light around the bodies. There was no clear sign of where they were killed. They were placed here. "They must have been gutted somewhere else. Let's keep going." I jumped when Grant whispered in my ear again. We walked past the children and towards what looked like the entrance to the kitchen. Grant stopped me once again. He turned to me. "You know what's coming up next, right?" he mumbled to me. I held my stomach, but nodded confidently. "Amy, you're not going to like this, but we need to split up." My eyes shot up at him, wide. I felt my heart skip a beat, and then pump rapidly. "I'm confident you won't be able to stomach...her, and I don't want you making any loud noises. We don't know if we're alone yet." That last part made my stomach churn even more. Would the killer really still be here? "Just, go down the hall and make sure we're alone. Peak into the rooms. Don't go into the room where he's hanging unless you can hold yourself together, got it?" He said quietly, but sternly. I nodded slowly. "Meet me right here when you're done." And with that, Grant disappeared into the kitchen. I took a deep breath and held my gun up as I walked down the hall. I approached the first of three doors in the hall. I began to shake as I brought up the courage to push it open. At this point, I was kind of regretting saying to myself that I would enjoy this because I certainly was not. Although, my blood hadn't pumped this much in excitement in a long time. In a weird way, it was comforting to know I still had feelings. I finally pushed the door open lightly. I shone the light in and sighed in relief. Thankfully, the bathroom looked unscathed. Thank God the curtain to the bathtub was open because I don't think I would of had the guts to pull it open myself. With more courage under my belt now, I quickly moved to the next room. The faster I went, the sooner it would be over. I pushed the next door open and saw what I was afraid of seeing. Two small beds on opposite sides of the room, littered in blood. I was relieved slightly to see that blood was the only thing out of place in this room. I slowly walked in, curious to see mementos of the children. I walked up to a toy chest in the middle of the room. I bent down and opened the chest silently, hoping that Grant didn't hear me meddling. I let out a small chuckle and smiled. But, my smile was soon faded when I heard the door behind me slam close. I stood up instantly, afraid to look behind me.

"Chief?" I called out in my full voice. My breathing hitched when I heard slow footsteps approach me. "Is that you?" An arm was suddenly around my neck and a hand was covering my mouth. I dropped my gun in shock. My attacker moved his head to my ear and whispered in it.

"Don't make a fucking sound."


End file.
